


An Odd Sense of Bittersweet Familiarity

by mochaMomiles



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst and Feels, Crying, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochaMomiles/pseuds/mochaMomiles
Summary: Hinata is a big baby who hates talking about his feelings. What's new.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	An Odd Sense of Bittersweet Familiarity

\----------------------------------

Hajime sat on the floor of his cottage, staring at the wall, trying to make his head stop spinning. 

Moon beams streamed through the window, casting shadows that danced across the wall in front of him. It would be serene, had it not been for the current state of his room; Clothes strewn about the floor, drawers pulled out of the dresser, paper and assorted pens scattered throughout. He wished he could admit it wasn't like this all the time, but more often than not, Koizumi got onto him about bringing in a vacuum and “Cleaning up this biohazard”. He didn't mind the clutter too much though, although it did make things tend to disappear into the depths of dirty clothes that seemed to have a permanent residence in the corner of his cottage. 

He tapped his lip mindlessly with the pen in his hand, before snapping his eyes back down to the notepad in his lap. He regarded the words scrawled onto the page:

‘Komaeda,

I’m not sure if you’re angry at me or not but—

We should’--

He rips the piece of paper out of the notebook, crumpling it up and tossing it to the side. He starts again:

‘Dear Komaeda,’-- 

_No, That feels too…. Formal._

‘Sweet Komaeda’--

_God, that sounds disgusting._

He pressed the pen hard into the paper, the ink flowing out onto the page, forming a dark puddle that seeped into the pages below. He settled his face into his hands, letting out a frustrated sigh. There was always the option of _actually_ knocking on Komaeda’s door and seeing how he was doing, but a letter just seemed like the easier route, given Komaeda’s bouts of rambling about things Hajime just couldn't seem to keep up with. And most of the time anyways, he would just tell Hajime to go away when he got like this. He just figured Komaeda liked to be alone. Hence, writing a letter to slip under his door. 

The only problem was, Hajime’s tendency to overthink everything, especially when it came to matters concerning Komaeda. 

He flopped backwards onto the floor, the hardwood cold against his back, even through his t-shirt. The silence in his cottage was starting to make his head pound, the quiet somehow starting to seem like a dull screaming, scratching at the back of his brain. He looked to the clock on his nightstand, the digital green numbers reading _3:37am._ He had to get out of here. 

He headed for the door, gingerly stepping over the assorted junk scattered across the floor. He thought about bringing the notepad with him, but decided against it. His brain was fried from staring down at that yellow lined paper for the past hour and a half.

Hajime wasn't exactly sure where he was going, but he knew he just needed to get _out_. He stepped outside, softly shutting his door so as to not wake the others. His eyes quickly darted towards Komaeda’s cottage. No lights on. He let out a short breath, stepping off his porch and heading towards the beach.

The air was cooler at night, not nearly as hot and sticky as during the day, and he preferred it that way. The island was pretty at night, the palm trees swaying lightly with the soft breeze, the stars bright against the dark sky. It was easier to think when the sun wasn't so bright and the heat didn't make his clothes stick to his skin with sweat. Hajime found that he came to the beach after everybody had gone to bed quite often, seeing as it was the only time he could have some peace and quiet. Although he really did enjoy hanging out with the others, it was nice to have time to himself without somebody knocking on his cottage door asking for a favor. 

As he approached the shore, he kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the sand. He sat right at the tideline, the gentle waves coming in and out and just barely touching his feet. He dug his fingers into the wet sand, drawing small circles with his fingertips. The sound of the waves softly crashing on the shore was wildly comforting, almost as comforting as--

“Hinata-kun?”

Hajime jumped, whipping his head around to see a wide-eyed Komaeda, his hands clasped together. His hair bordered on a soft blue in the moonlight, and Hajime’s heart did an internal somersault. They’d been avoiding each other for weeks now. It had been so long since Hajime had heard his voice. He had to admit…. he missed it. 

“Oh dear,” Nagito says softly, “I didn't mean to startle you! I see you have already laid claim to the beach, so I'll just go back to my cottage! Terribly sorry--”

“No, no! It's totally fine, it's a huge beach, there's room for both of us, really.” He smiled, trying to show Komaeda he was being genuine, hoping he wouldn't try to debate his sincerity like usual. 

Komaeda lingered where he stood for a moment before gently taking off his shoes and placing them into the sand next to Hajime’s own. He sat down next to Hajime, slipping the hair tie off his wrist and pulling his hair into a small ponytail to keep the curly strands out of his face. Hajime hated to admit it, but he _really_ liked when Nagito would put his hair up, and he prayed it was dark enough outside to hide the pink blush that started to spread across his face. 

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, before Hajime started to feel the silence growing heavier. He tried to wrap his mind around why the _fuck_ Komaeda just happened to want a nice late night walk to the beach at the same time as him, and he couldnt decide if he was grateful for it or not. 

“So,” Nagito cut into Hajime’s whirling string of thoughts, “Why aren't you in bed, Hinata-kun? It’s pretty late, isn't it?”

Hajime cursed himself for not saying something first, and fumbled for a reply that wasn’t _‘Oh, I was just drafting a letter to casually slip under your door so I didn't have to personally confront you about how you’re currently feeling.’_

“Couldn't sleep,” He managed to choke out, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't _really_ lying, but he figured Komaeda wouldn't take it well that the reason for Hajime’s less than ideal sleep schedule was indirectly because of him.

“Ah….. Insomnia. Me too.” Nagito laid back into the sand, letting out a small sigh. “It seems we both had the thought that a walk would wear us out. I would say something along the lines of ‘great minds think alike’, but I wouldn’t say my mind is anywhere near great.” Nagito let out a soft laugh, and Hajime huffed dejectedly. _Jeez, here we go again._

“‘Fools rarely differ’.”

Nagito tilted his head after a beat of silence.

“‘Great minds think alike, but fools rarely differ’. That’s how the phrase goes.” Hajime sputtered it out. Eloquence never really was a forte of his.

“Fools….. Yes. Two fools.”

“Yeah,” Hajime chuckled awkwardly, “Something like that, I guess.”

Hajime started to entertain the idea of inviting Komaeda back to his cottage for a totally platonic friendly sleepover, and he doubted he would refuse, but part of him held back. He didn't want to seem like a sleaze or something. He had to admit, Hajime slept a lot better when Nagito was sleeping next to him. He quickly shoved that thought out of his head before looking at Komaeda. 

“You know, I think I have a bottle of melatonin stowed in my room somewhere. Mikan gave it to me a while ago after I complained about not sleeping well during breakfast,” Hajime shrugged, “You could take one. It works okay for me when I have trouble sleeping.”

Nagito shook his head frantically, lifting himself up partially off the ground. “Oh, no! I would never ask to take such a valuable resource from you, and I would hate for you to waste such things on me.” He put a hand to his forehead, pushing his white bangs to the side, “And besides, if the universe is forcing me to stay awake, such is fate.”

Hajime was at his limit with Komaeda’s self-deprecating rhetoric for tonight. He never understood why he would always refuse his help. Hajime had a hypothesis that it had something to do with punishing himself, but he and Komaeda didn't talk about it much. They both tended to avoid the heavy stuff as best as they could with each other, because when either of them broke down, it was a mess. It was easier just to pretend things were okay and deal with it later. But _tonight_ , Hajime couldn't bear to hear him drag himself through the dirt again. 

“Quit that.”

Nagito tilts his head inquisitively, “Quit what?”

“You know exactly what. Talking shit about yourself and then acting like you deserve it. I hate it. It seriously ruins, like, every situation.”

“Oh.” 

They sat in silence, long enough for Hajime to not recognize how long they had been sitting there, although it felt like hours. Admittedly, he did feel bad for shutting Komaeda down so quickly. _Maybe I shouldn't have been so direct?_ He cringed at the thought. Having to tell Komaeda off for being a sad-sack wasn’t rare, but it hurt every time. He just wanted Komaeda to feel okay for once. The insomnia to go away, the night terrors to cease, but Hajime knew he couldn't get better unless he really wanted to. And the way things were going, he figured Komaeda was still dead set on punishing himself for a long while. 

He turned to say something to Komaeda, only to realize he was starting to stand up. He brushed himself off and turned towards the cottages, grabbing his shoes in the sand as he left in silence. 

Hajime watched him walk off, staring dumbly to his back as he left. _This felt….. Bad?_ A dark enveloping feeling started to overcome him, the guilt starting to seep into his mind. This wouldn't have been the first time he'd told Nagito to cut his sad-sack bullshit, but it was the first time He had reacted like _that_. In front of Hajime, at least. How did he manage to fuck this up this badly?

He stared into where the water met the skyline, chewing his lip nervously. He contemplated following after Nagito, to apologize, maybe. To set things straight. To clarify intention. He steeled himself before shifting to his feet, and stared out into the ocean for a moment more before heading back towards the cottages to find Nagito. 

————————————-

He dragged his feet as he walked down the trail to Nagito’s cottage. He hated apologizing to him. He always ended up in tears. Such is the way things went. He wasn’t sure why these kinds of things involving Komaeda affected him so much. Why did every interaction always feel so heavy, sagging under the weight of whatever totally platonic and not gay thing they had going on. Not that Hinata would ever admit that though. Maybe if he cared about him less, he’d be able to talk about it more.

He reached Komaeda’s porch, desperately trying to convince himself to just leave Komaeda be. Not that he ever could. He knocked hard on the door, but got no answer. _Did he not go back to his cottage?_ Maybe it would be okay if he just went inside. And if Komaeda wasn’t in there, he’d just go back to his own cottage. Yeah. Sounds good. 

He gently turned the knob of the door, weaseling his way into the dark cottage, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

“Komaeda?”

“What do you want?” It rang out from the bed, where Komaeda was sitting. He seemed to be just staring at the wall. What a weird guy. 

Hajime walked a couple feet further into the room, closing the door behind him. He kinda just stood there like an idiot, twisting his fingers behind his back. God, this was way more nerve racking than it should be. 

“Uh, so sorry about, like, being snippy or whatever earlier. I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked and stuff.”

“Okay,” Komaeda shrugged, “If that’s it, you’re free to go now.”

“What? No, that’s not it, I’m trying to talk to you about this.”

“Well I don’t really feel like talking to you.”

“Please Komaeda, I'm just trying to get closure—“ 

“Closure? That’s what this is?” He cuts him off, “Or are you just trying to make yourself feel better?”

Hinata stood in stunned silence for a moment, struggling to form a witty comeback to that one. Of course he was just here for the closure. He never wanted to speak to Komaeda again. Even if he doesn’t really mind seeing his white hair tucked messily into a ponytail, or his long delicate fingers, eerily still by his sides. Even if seeing his pale face still jumpstarts his heart, and even if— 

“Why do you always have to be so difficult? It’s like all you know how to do is push me away. All I do is try to help you! Why won’t you just let me help?”

“I never asked for your help, Hinata.” Komaeda is quiet now, his voice wavering for a moment, His eyes resting conveniently away from Hinata’s own. “Just leave me alone.”

“So all that stuff you said all that time ago about wanting me around and not wanting to lock me out anymore was..... what, A lie, then?” Hinata was starting to come unraveled, his hands shaking in frustration. All the promises he had made to himself before coming to Komaeda’s cottage to end the weeks of cold silence between them had gone out the window. Promises about not crying, promises about keeping it laid back. 

Komaeda shrugged. Hinata turned to the door and leaned his head against it. Komaeda and his stupid noncommittal nature pissed him off more than anything. Made him want to bash his skull into the wooden door of the cottage. 

“Pick then,” Hinata stated flatly, his back still to komaeda, “Should I stay, or do you want me to go?” 

“Whatever you want to do. It doesn’t matter to me.” 

Hinata whipped around, making Komaeda flinch. He started to say something but it was choked back by a strong sob of anger and frustration. 

“‘It doesn’t matter’?” He snipped, “This doesn’t matter to you? I’m trying..... so hard to fix things for us, Komaeda. And all you can do is act like you don’t care? Like this is nothing to you? Like.... Like i’m not worth your precious time?” 

Komaeda clenched his jaw, “Of course I care. I just.....” He paused, picking at the seam of his shirt. 

“Just what? It’s like all I fucking do is try to make you care about me. All I do is bend over backwards for you. I’m tired of it. Do you even want to be friends anymore?”

“Friends? Have we ever really been friends?”

“What.”

Hinata liked to think he wasn’t easily phased. But that….. that really threw him for a loop. Did Komaeda think they weren’t friends? This must be the beginning of the end. This must be Komaeda telling him he fucking hates him and never wants to see him again.

“Am I really _just_ a friend to you? I think there’s more to it than just that.”

Oh. _Oh._ Play dumb, Hinata, play dumb.

“Uh, what do you mean? Of course we’re friends.”

“I’m not stupid, Hinata.”

He hated when Komaeda got like this, treating things like it’s a game. It was dehumanizing almost. Made everything feel like the world’s worst game of cat and mouse. And as much as he hated to admit it, he was backed into a corner, staring into the jaws of the cat. He’d rather be eaten alive than have to actually come clean about how he felt. Maybe denial was still a viable option.

“I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. And quite honestly, you’re acting crazy.”

“You’re the one in denial. By some people’s standards, you’d be the crazy one.”

“What do you want me to say, Komaeda.” Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff of air. 

“Whatever it is you are wanting to say. I know you want to say it.” 

“Say what. I don’t have anything to say, I just came to apologize.”

“Okay then, you’ve apologized. So you can leave now.” 

“Yeah, maybe I will.” 

Hajime didn’t know why he was still standing there. He didn’t know why he didn’t want to move. They just kept staring at each other. There was a palpable tension weighing heavy in the room, almost choking him. Without thinking, he stepped closer to Komaeda. He was in arms distance now. 

“You really are an asshole, yknow that?”

“Yeah, but you sure seem to get off on it right?”

Hinata became suddenly overly aware of how hot his face had become. Oh no, _was_ he into this? 

“Oh god, _what?”_

“You aren't hard to read Hinata. You're actually quite transparent to me. I know what you want to do.”

“What I _want_ you to do is to stop talking.”

“So make me.”

Before Hinata could even react to just how red that made his face, Komaeda grabbed a fistful of his shirt, yanking him down and pressing their lips together. 

It took Hinata a moment to register what had just happened before kissing him back hard. _Really_ hard. He shoved Komaeda backwards, now lying on the bed on his back with Hinata on top of him. Their teeth clicked together, and there was sighing, but Hinata couldn’t tell who it was coming from. Komaeda’s mouth felt _really_ good. Way _too_ good. If they kept up like this, he was going to have to confront the very pressing problem of whatever was going on in his increasingly tight jeans. 

“Komaeda, aH—“ his hand brushed up against his waistband, and he had to stop himself from making a _really_ embarrassing sound, “We should probably…..”

He pulled away from his lips, staring at him from above. Komaeda’s hair was disheveled, and he was breathing hard.

_Fuck._

“Probably what, Hinata?” He lulled, putting his arms above his head. 

“You really just like pushing my buttons, don’t you.” 

“It’s got a pretty good pay off apparently, no?”

Hinata rolled his eyes and let out a bitter chuckle, getting off of Komaeda and sitting on the edge of the bed. He knew they shouldn’t be doing this, even though it felt _really_ good. But something was holding him back. Maybe it was guilt, maybe he was just still hurt by the way Komaeda was acting. 

“Are you okay?” 

“You…. you know, don’t you,” Hinata says quietly, “that I’m into you.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Hinata looked at Komaeda, now sitting up from his compromised position on the bed. Of course he knew, Hinata wasn’t too good at keeping things to himself. He expected this answer. But hearing it out loud was different, and he couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his face. He tried desperately to wipe them away before Komaeda noticed, but it was too late. He had definitely noticed. 

“Woah, woah, it’s okay Hinata, really! Don’t cry…” Komaeda tentatively reached out to pat his arm, with a hesitation that seemed weird considering how much they had been touching each other right before this. “It’s really not a big deal, it’s okay.” 

“Of course it’s a big deal! I literally fuck up everything between us constantly, just because I’m afraid to lose you. Is that what you’ve been wanting me to say?” He realized he was yelling. His face was hot and the tears didn’t stop coming. Nothing could be heard except Hinata's shuddering breaths as he cried. 

Komaeda stayed silent, just watching him. 

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Hinata strained out, Komaeda’s outline blurred by the thick film of tears obscuring his vision.

“I’m not really good at saying things in situations like this.”

“Then please just… come here.”

Hinata opened his arms, inviting Komaeda in for a hug. Komaeda laid his head on his shoulder, his hair tickling Hinata's face, and accidentally absorbing some of the wetness from the tears on his face. All he wanted was to feel Komaeda. Sometimes, he didn’t even feel real. Only a concept somebody had made up, only an idea. But feeling him in his arms now, he knew this was real. For better or for worse, they were tied together. It was oddly familiar, this feeling. Like he’d been here before, and he’d be here again. 

“I know you don't feel the same, Komaeda, and I'm sorry I had to ruin everything with my stupid emotions. I'm really fucking sorry.”

“Who said I didn't feel the same?” Komaeda whispered, “Although I don't really understand how you possibly could like somebody like me.” 

It was like slamming into a brick wall. All this time he’d been beating himself up for how he felt about Komaeda, whining with Souda about how unrequited love is “totally not the vibe, man”, when he could have been making out with Komaeda until they both couldn't breathe all this time?

“How could I not?”

That made Komaeda hug him tighter, and he could feel his long nails pressing into his back. It kinda hurt, but mostly it was weirdly comforting. He returned the favor, hugging him tighter too. 

He hoped, somewhere deep and dark inside his brain, that he never had to let go of Komaeda. Hoped they could stay like this forever. No matter what he had to do, or how bad it hurt, he wasn't going to let him go again.

—————————- 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This ones for you cowboy. Sorry we haven’t talked in a while.


End file.
